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Reproduced with the permission of the original author "DH" of Victoria, BC.

HOUR 0: Friday 8 pm: Who hasn’t flipped open a Guinness Book of World Records at one time or another and marveled at the incredible feats or gawked at the freakish exhibits. Soon, I am proud to say, you can gawk at 40 seriously disturbed hockey players who agreed to make an assault on the world record for the longest hockey game in history. We would attempt to keep a single game of hockey going long enough to beat the previous-extant record of 49 hours and 23 minutes.

A normal two-hour game of hockey is physically grueling, leaving superb athletes exhausted and spent. This attempt borders on insanity. I am in my element.

HOUR 2: We were told to pace ourselves but we may as well have been told to don pink tutus and dance Swan Lake. The testosterone is flying out there and nobody is giving any quarter. I love this game.

HOUR 4: Deadly Dan Evans, the Human Helicopter, is on the other team. The two of us have taken a puck or two too many to the head over the years and are among only five players over age 40. His 17-year old son, Nathan, is on the same team and his youthful legs allow him to dominate the play. Hockey is indeed the coolest game on earth.

HOUR 8: Have played four full games of hockey and still the pace is as though we are being infused with high octane Jolt, lemon juice and cattle prods. I sort of enjoy this game.
HOUR 18: I go into a corner with The Helicopter on my tail. After a struggle I emerge with DAN WAS HERE carved on my abdomen. Hockey is an OK sport, really.

HOUR 24: One full day of hockey. I have taken a shot to my ankle and my right foot is now swollen. I can’t do my laces up all the way and the pain is searing. Most of us are hurting somewhere, feet primarily. I could quit and get into the record book another way, perhaps for most medical mistakes on Mondays. Hockey is nothing particularly great.HOUR 32: 4AM Sunday and the crowd has thinned out, the pace has slackened a little. He shoots, he scores, he sleeps, he snores. Gear is starting to give off toxic biohazard fumes. Score is now 307-281. Lloyd the goalie is in some kind of narcosis. A lawyer by day, this guy is defending our net with such tenacity that he hurls insults, challenges and his stick at any player who gets near his crease. I wish I were in church or hell or anywhere but here right now. Who invented this stupid game?HOUR 43: “If you had another eye you’d be an ogre!” I yell at the ref. He is my own 18 year-old son Palmer. He calls me for an intentional offside and warns me. Jerk. But the refs, goal judges, scorekeepers are amongst the many selfless volunteers who come out for four hours stints and make this attempt truly a community effort, even though hockey now sucks.
HOUR 44: Marv Walker can skate like the wind. I’ve been known to generate a lot of wind myself. So when we collide, helmet on helmet, we are both dazed, like two rams butting heads on an icy mountain ridge. My left arm goes completely numb for a minute and then starts to burn. Marv has a severe headache and is obviously concussed. I can’t remember where I am for a few minutes. I look for my pink tutu. But I was born on skates and I’ll likely die on skates, the sooner the better. I hate hockey. Die Gretzky.

HOUR 49:22 minutes: Big crowd on hand. We are one minute away from becoming world record holders. Marv, the brainchild of this event, has tirelessly organized, reorganized, scheduled and even cooked food for this game. Palpably excited, he is on the ice as the record approaches. Suddenly the unthinkable happens. Marv reaches out in plain view of the ref and trips another player. The ref’s hand goes up and Marv slinks off to the penalty box. The guy who has spent the better part of his waking hours for the past several months organizing this entire event will be in solitary confinement while the rest of us would be celebrating the world record. Unbelievable. But then a reaction I will never forget. Garrett Matthews, a 22 year old smooth skating former captain of the Peninsula Panthers Junior B team, is immediately in the ref’s face, heatedly going nose to nose. All the way over to the timekeeper’s box Garrett is within inches of the ref’s dentures. Suddenly the ref smiles and nods as they approach the bench. Garrett smiles. The penalty box opens. Marv steps onto the ice as Garrett heads into the box. From under the sweaty helmet of a young hockey player emerges more class than I have witnessed in years.

52

hours

and

I

minute

from

August

16

to

1 do love this game.

The then-established world record: 52 hours and 1 minute from August 16 to 19, 2002

Unless otherwise noted, this article was written by Lloyd Duhaime, Barrister, Solicitor, Attorney and Lawyer (and Notary Public!). It is not intended to be legal advice and you would be foolhardy to rely on it in respect to any specific situation you or an acquaintance may be facing. In addition, the law changes rapidly and sometimes with little notice so from time to time, an article may not be up to date. Therefore, this is merely legal information designed to educate the reader. If you have a real situation, this information will serve as a good springboard to get legal advice from a lawyer.